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Monday, September 7, 2015

Not because I'm doing laundry, because that's a given in this house. It's because of what's in the laundry. I'm washing the towels and bathing suits for the last time today.

The kids go back to school this week (I started back last week), and the pool is closing. My aunt and uncle are so gracious to give us carte blanche use of their pool, and this summer, boy did we use it.

The last day of school. I feel like it was yesterday.

But it's all done. The beach vacation, the lazy days of summer have faded away, and although it's going to be near 90 and humid today, summer is over here in Upstate New York. The leaves are starting to change, the nights are getting cooler, and pumpkin-spice seems to be everywhere.

Normally, I like the change of seasons. I find it invigorating, and one of the reasons that I don't think I could live in a year-round warm environment. But this year, I'm hanging onto summer with a death grip.

For me, this summer was one of the best ever. I worked part-time in the afternoons. It was just enough. The rest of the time, it was me and the kids. There were swimming lessons, and camps, and household projects. But more importantly, there was time. Time to relax. To watch movies, To read books. To play with toys. To enjoy one another.

Catskill Animal Sanctuary

My son, who two years ago couldn't dive head first into the water is now doing back flips off the diving board. My daughter's creative side has flourished and grown, given the time to do so.

She made an entire cat clan out of clay. My favorite is the on the coaster. It's a cat lying on its back playing with a ball of yarn.

This coming week brings the onslaught of the schedule. The dry-erase calendar seems busy and full, but half of the scheduling information isn't added yet (Confession: I haven't used the calendar since June!). Soccer and scouts and religion and dance and band and open houses and and and ...

I'm tired already.

So, while the last remnants of summer are spinning away, shaking out residual sand and chlorine, I'm mentally preparing myself for what's to come.

Telling stories of resilient women

Writing women's fiction with a dabble of chick lit and a hint of romance. Everything but the kitchen sink.

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